“Thank you; you’ve been most helpful. I think I just need to sleep right now.”
Davis felt as if she was already drifting off as she said the words. She was aware of Quinn leaving the room but felt detached as if she was floating above her body and was not hundred percent aware of what was going on.
Quinn wished her a good night as she departed, not sure if Davis had even heard her. She felt terrible; she honestly did because Quinn knew what was coming, and she knew it wouldn’t be pleasant. As the physical discomfort waned, the emotional distress would intensify.
August 30, 2056 –
The Longest Day
Davis slept for what felt like many hours, maybe a whole other day, it seemed, but she didn’t have a clue what time she even went to sleep. But she did know she felt pretty good, almost like she was on the brink of being back to her old self. There were still some nagging bits; it felt as if little bugs were crawling around her brain and occasionally biting off a piece. It didn’t exactly hurt, but it didn’t feel right, either. It was a weird sensation, just like pretty much everything else had been since she got to the bunker. Bizarre, odd feelings that led her not to be fully aware, not entirely sure what was real and what wasn’t. She felt very vague and ambiguous about herself and life itself.
Suddenly feeling very awake and—she hated to say it—but she felt gross, Davis decided it was time to head to the restroom. She didn’t know when the last time she had taken a shower. Davis remembered Quinn telling her where the bathroom was but was still feeling a bit nervous about just getting over her illness. She had never been ill like that and did not know what the after-effects might be. The last thing she wanted to do was throw up or faint. She very slowly and methodically pulled herself into a sitting position. When she felt okay with that, she stood up but kept one hand on the edge of the bed headboard to make sure she was stable. Although Davis felt a bit lightheaded, it passed after a moment. She slowly worked her way over to where Quinn had set the pink, fluffy towels down and went to pick them up. All of that seemed to go fine, so she opened the door and stepped out.
After Davis found the restroom, she took her time taking a leisurely shower. She wasn’t sure why she took her time; she was used to timed showers. But, something about it felt so invigorating and refreshing, so peaceful and calming; the steaming water carried away some of her stress and worries. She also got a kick out of trying some of the different soaps and shampoos they had. Other scents, unlike the eucalyptus and tea tree scent she was accustomed to using. She found she was quite fond of the hyacinth scented bath soap. Hyacinth, she played with the word in her mind. She wasn’t quite sure how to say it, really, but it smelled amazing. It was a sweet, delicate floral scent, with a mildly spicy undertone that was intoxicating. She looked at the picture on the soap bottle; she had never seen them in person. The little blooms grew up the stem, creating columns of flowers in blue, pink, and white on their stems, verdant with thick, broad leaves. Davis thought they looked like mini flower fireworks. Flowerworks. She laughed to herself at her corny joke.
After her shower, she continued primping herself with the beauty products they had in the bathroom. There were different lotions and hair care products. She knew she was somewhat wasteful, and for that, would apologize to everyone. By nature, Davis wasn’t usually an extravagant person. Although again, she had never really had the opportunity to be. But it felt so good to find pleasure in these little things and pamper herself; something never experienced before. And, quite honestly, she wasn’t sure if she would ever be able to do this again. She regretted putting on her dirty clothing; the handy little window cutout she was used to retrieving her fresh clothing from was missing.
After she had finished in the restroom, Davis made her way back to what she supposed was “her” bedroom. She didn’t feel it was indeed hers; she belonged at the Pods, getting ready to work at the Everett Center. Didn’t she? she thought. She felt confident about residing in the Pods and working at the Everett Center. But then there was another bite on her brain, another annoying wisp of something chewed off and spat out, and she had to admit she wasn’t even sure where she belonged. Davis walked in and noticed a small closet to her right. There were some hooks on the door, where the damp towels could hang.
Davis looked around the room. It was the first time she had been aware enough to survey her surroundings. She couldn’t believe it: color. She was so used to only seeing white, gray, brown, and maybe some black. The world was various shades of those colors. Naturally, the sky was blue, and the grass green, and you could find wildflowers now and then in all shades of colors. But painted things or those manufactured, and fabrics that were dyed colors, were always in lackluster hues or were without pigment altogether. Davis had never seen anything like this room. The carpet was a bright blue, dotted with little yellow flowers. Still not made, her messy bed was covered with off-white sheets, a gray blanket, and a quilt on top of that. The quilt was a series of blue and green triangles, sewn together to form boxes. The triangle squares had
